


Sailing Home

by bakernotbaked



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 04:23:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19099663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bakernotbaked/pseuds/bakernotbaked
Summary: Something little because I hated the way D&D ended Arya's story.  A missing scene from 8x06 and possibly something afterwards.  Ratings may change as I continue to write this!





	1. Chapter 1

Arya hated the whole situation. Tyrion and Jon were captive, the Dragon Queen was dead by Jon’s hand, and King’s Landing was a mess of still smoldering fires and rubble, and she was waiting on the remaining lords and ladies of the Seven Kingdoms to get to the city to deal with this mess. The battle at Winterfell had been so much easier than this. She knew who the enemy was, who she had to kill to stay alive. It was simple compared to this. She wished she could go back to her home and her normal way of life. But she was trapped in the city, whether she liked it or not.

She stalked down a hallway in one of the only parts of the Red Keep that was still standing, by the servants’ quarters. Most of the lords and ladies attending the council chose to stay here rather than in tents outside the ruined city, like the remaining citizens of King’s Landing had done. Arya was staying in a tent outside the city as well. She couldn’t think about staying in this city longer than she needed to, not when the smoke and ash still swirled in the air. But she needed to find someone, to apologize. She knew that he probably wouldn’t be here. But she had to check.

Arriving at the door, Arya knocked once. She waited outside the door, and when nobody answered, she pushed it open. The room was empty, and had been for quite some time. A fine layer of ash coated all the furniture. She sighed, and stepped out of the room once more. She knew the other place he could be.

* * *

 

The walk to Flea Bottom from the Red Keep was a long one. Arya hated what she saw. Burnt stores, burnt houses, burnt people. She stared down and hurried along. Flea Bottom was just as bad, even worse honestly, as the rest of King’s Landing. She found him standing in front of a burnt out building.

“Gendry.” He jumped and whirled around.

“Arya! What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. You know, I thought a lord would know better than to go into a dangerous city all on his own.”

“This city is dead.” He turned back to the building, and she faced it.

“I know. I was here when it died.” She gestured to the building in front of them. “Someplace special?”

“The first shop I worked in. Tobho Mott’s.”

“He was the one that sold you to the Watch.”

“Told me it was to protect me from the people in the city. Fat load of good that did.”

“Gendry, I’m sorry.” He turned to look at her. “I thought I was going to die. I came here to kill Cersei. I knew that once I did that, I wouldn’t make it out alive.”

“And yet, here you are.” He sounded hurt.

“The Hound saved me. He convinced me to get out of the Keep before the Dragon Queen completely destroyed it.”

“You’re still here. You could have told me this. I wouldn’t have tried to stop you.”

“I know. I made a mistake. And I’m sorry. I understand if you don’t want to see me ever again.”

“Arya.” The softness in his voice damn near killed her. “I was never asking you to change who you were. I was asking you to be my family.”

She finally turned away from the building, looking into his eyes. “I’ll never be a lady. I won’t stand at your elbow and wear fancy dresses. You’ve seen the scars. I don’t know if I can give you children.”

“I won’t ask any of that from you. I just want to be with you.”

“I can’t stay in Westeros right now. After this council, I’m sailing west.” She looked down at her boots. She was ashamed of how she couldn’t seem to stop the tears welling in her eyes. He lifted her chin as the tears started to stream down her face.

“Then I’ll wait for you.” The tears were pouring out of her eyes as he pulled her to him, her head resting on his chest.

Arya just wept in his arms for what seemed like hours. He had every right to hate her, and here he was comforting her as she cried in his arms.

“You’re too good for me.”

“Arya, don’t say that. You saved me with Yoren, you saved me at Harrenhal, and you saved me at Winterfell. You’re the only person I want.” She pulled away and looked into his eyes, the streams of tears slowing to a halt.

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He leaned down and kissed her softly on her forehead. He held her for a moment longer before pulling away and grabbing her hand. They walked along the ruined street, hand in hand, out of the city.

“Let me show you to the new quarters of the ‘Bringer of Dawn’.” Gendry snorted at her remark and allowed himself to be pulled along, through the rows of tents. As dusk fell, they reached a small tent on the outskirts of the Kingswood. She opened the flap and pulled him in. He held her as she started to cry again, his arms wrapped around her as her sobs shook her body. Before long, the sobs stopped and her breathing grew regular and even. Gendry sighed with relief as she fell asleep. He was starting to doze off when he heard a voice outside her tent.

“Lady Arya, are you here?” Ser Davos was outside. Gendry grumbled and crawled out of the tent. Davos looked shocked, but didn’t say anything.

“Ser Davos. It’s good to see you.”

“Nice to see you’re still standing lad. I was under the impression that this was Lady Arya’s tent.”

“You’re right.”

“I didn’t realize you were… familiar.”

“She and I traveled out of King’s Landing together, and she was with me in the Brotherhood when they sold me to Melisandre.”

“I didn’t know that. Its good that you two were reunited.”

“What’s the news?”

“Lady Sansa and the last of the lord and ladies from the north have arrived. The council will take place tomorrow in the Dragonpit at noon.”

“I’ll wake her up. She’ll want to see her sister and brother.”

“Lad…”

“Don’t worry about us.”

“I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow at the council.”

“Thank you.”

Davos waved his hand and walked away. Gendry crawled back into the tent and gently shook Arya. She woke up and blinked slowly, before running her hand along his jaw.

“Davos was looking for you. Your sister and brother have arrived in the city. Do you want to go meet them?”

“I’ll see them tomorrow. Lets just stay here tonight, the two of us.”

“Arya, are you sure?”

“Sansa took her time getting to the city, I’ll take my time going to see her.” She laughed and sat up. He followed suit, but hit his head on the center bar of the tent.

“I’m all for staying here, just the two of us, but I’m afraid by the end of the night there won’t be much left in my head.” He rubbed the lump forming on his head.

“You stupid bull. We’ll go to your tent then.” She pulled his face to hers and kissed him, a fierce, passionate kiss that took his breath away. He pulled away and crawled out of the tent once again.

“If m’lady insists.” She kicked him hard on his way out, and kissed him again.

“Lead the way, m’lord.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to his tent, laughing with her all the way there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this was meant to be a one shot? But then I wanted to do more because these two deserved more

Arya said goodbye to Gendry on the docks with assurances she would be back within half a year.  That was all she had supplied for, and that was what was planned.  She watched as the dock disappeared into the horizon, Gendry’s figure growing smaller in the distance. She had tried to convince him to come with her, to take a break from the chaos of the new Six Kingdoms.  But he had insisted that the Stormlands needed a Baratheon, even a bastard, in Storm’s End.  So he stayed and she went west. 

Arya hoped that he would be able to rule.  Davos had elected to stay in King’s Landing, and Gendry was relying on the help of the men and women staffing Storm’s End to get him settled in ruling.  The maester was going to teach him how to read and write, so he could respond to her ravens.  And she had left him with ten loyal Northmen, good fighters and honest men that had sworn to protect him from anyone that had wanted to bring him harm.  Hopefully they would never have to actually do that.  He had given her two new, beautiful daggers for her trip.  One had direwolves carved onto the hilt, and the other had stags on it.  He had labored over them for the two weeks before she left.  And right before she had boarded Nymeria, Gendry had slipped a bracelet onto her wrist, a simple silver band.  As he waved her goodbye, Arya saw a matching one on his wrist.

She worried about him.  Gendry was a nice guy.  Probably too nice to rule Storm’s End on his own.  But he refused to come with her, and she needed to be away from Westeros.  So they went in their separate directions, promising to return to each other.  She knew that he was worried about her too.  He had made sure her ship was fully stocked for the voyage, and that they were armed to the teeth.  She had laughed at him when he tried to give her a sword and four more daggers on top of the two he had made for her.  Somehow they had ended up in her cabin on the ship anyway.  Each time she saw them, she smiled.

* * *

 

The first few ravens she to Gendry had sent had responses.  At first, they were written in the equal, neat writing of the maester, with Gendry scrawling his name at the bottom.  But the fifth or sixth letter was written in the unsteady handwriting of Gendry.  She saved all those messages, and read them at night when she missed him.  He told her all about how the restoration of the Stormlands was going, and how all the lords and ladies kept trying to put their eligible daughters in front of him, proposing marriage.  He would laugh at them and say that there was a lovely she-wolf coming back for him.  And Gendry wrote about how he missed her.  He wrote about how the lord’s bed at Storm’s End was two big and too empty without her, how he missed her pummeling him in sparring matches and watching him in the forge. 

Arya wrote to him about how ship life was boring, how she could thoroughly pummel every man on the ship with her eyes closed, how the excitement of heading west had worn off, and how she missed him.  How her cabin on the ship would be more comfortable if she had a stupid bull to keep her company, how he could be such a help on the ship if only he had come.  How she wanted him to chase her nightmares away.

When they turned around after three months of sailing west and finding nothing, she wrote to him.

_Gendry_

_We turned around today.  Three months of sailing west and we found nothing.  Not even any islands or ships with people.  Just seas.  I’m sure there’s something out west, but it’s not for me to find.  I’m coming back.  Hope you don’t burn Storm’s End down before I get there.  I miss you_

_Arya_

But there was no response from that raven.  She assumed that her message had gotten caught in a storm, and sent another.  There was no response from him with that raven either.  She sent a third and wrote to Sansa, asking about him.  Sansa responded that all had gone quiet in the Stormlands.  Arya began to worry even more.  On an impulse, she called the captain and first mate of Nymeria.

“We’re changing destination.  Set a course for Tarth.”

“But—”

“Storm’s End has gone quiet.  I don’t trust it.  We’ll make our way to the Stormlands on a different ship.”

The course was changed and Arya sent a raven to Ser Brienne in King’s Landing that she was visiting her homelands.  They were received well by Brienne’s father, and traded Nymeria for a simple merchant vessel.  Like Sansa and Brienne, the lord of Tarth knew nothing of what was happening in the Stormlands.  Tarth was beautiful, but Arya refused to stay long.  She was sailing again after two days.

* * *

 

The merchant ship pulled into Shipbreaker Bay.  The bay was unusually subdued.  As they docked, Arya pulled out one of her faces.  She wanted her presence in the city to be unknown for the moment.  She gathered her crew.

“I’m no longer Arya Stark.  I’m Elia Sand, a passenger from Dorne going to visit the Twins.  You never met Arya Stark, and this is a simple merchant vessel coming from Tarth, stopping here for a few days before sailing to King’s Landing.  We carry wine and wheat.”  Before the crew could say anything, she pulled a new face on, and they gasped in shock as Arya Stark disappeared and a Dornish woman appeared in her place.

She walked back down below deck and looked at her belongings.  All three of her daggers she carried on her, Cat’s Paw and the two Gendry made, went into her bag, as did the silver bracelet.  Needle was wrapped and placed into the hilt for her other sword.  Her winter cloak was put into her bag, and a simple Dorish cloak replaced it.  With that, every sign of Arya Stark had disappeared.  Only Elia Sand.  When she walked onto the dock, the men there barely looked at her.  She shouldered her bag and made her way into the town outside of Storm’s End.  She hadn’t recognized the men that greeted her crew as they moved around the dock, and the fact that Shipbreaker Bay was nearly empty did not ease her suspicions.  She had set sail from here.  It was busy when she had left in the spring, and it should be busy now that it was full flung summer.  Once in the town, she used some of the gold she had gotten in Tarth to get a horse.

Riding to Storm’s End, Arya thought about what could have gone wrong.  Gendry had help from the maester and the northmen she had left with him.  Maybe he had just gotten busy and had forgotten to respond.  But it didn’t feel right.  As the castle came into view, she reared off the road and rode through the woods.  Better to make her way into the castle unknown if she was that worried.  Luckily, she knew the tunnels into the castle.  Gendry had shown her while Nymeria had been getting ready.  She pushed any thought of bad things that could have happened to him and focus on getting into the castle.

* * *

 

When she emerged from the tunnel, Arya saw a busy castle.  The servants hurried along in the hallways, ignoring the Dornish girl Arya appeared to be.  Nobody paid her any mind as she slipped through the halls to the Lord’s chambers.  It was night now, Gendry should be sound asleep there.  But when she threw the door open, the room was empty.  She looked around.  Dust coated the desk and the bed hadn’t been slept in for a while.  She moved out of the room.

The next spot she checked was the forge.  Before she had left, she had spent time with him there.  Gendry relieved his stress there, and often slept there.  But the bed was empty, the hearth cold, and the forge deserted.

“Fuck” Arya muttered to herself.  She moved out of the forge and drew one of her daggers.  Creeping back through the yard, she found a guard.  moving silently, she pressed her dagger to his back, on the kidney.

“Where’s the lord.”

“Lord Errol?”  The guard sounded scared.  Arya was startled.  This was Storm’s End.  Ruled by the Baratheons, not the Errols.

“Lord Baratheon.” The guard let out a barking laugh, and Arya pushed the knife harder into the guard’s back.  She could feel his tunic rip and blood started to seep on it.  He winced, but didn’t say anything more.  She pressed harder and twisted his arm behind his back, pulling him into a dark corner.

“Dungeons.”  Arya raised her knife and hit the poor guard on the back of his head.  He slumped down and she pulled him fully into the corner.  It was all she could do to not run headfirst into the dungeons, cutting down any man or woman who came in her way.  She crept through the castle, moving to the dungeons.  Only a single man was on guard, and she took care of him like the first guard.  The cells at her end of the dungeon were empty.  But there was a torch at the far end of the dungeon.  Running down the hall, Arya came upon the only lit cell.

“Gendry!”


	3. Chapter 3

Gendry was sitting in the corner, in his breeches and boots but lacking a tunic or cloak. He was covered in soot, and Arya assumed that he had been taken and thrown in here while working in the forge. Arya grabbed the bars of the cell. He looked up at her, and Arya realized she was still wearing the Dornish face. He looked up in confusion as she pulled the face off. The relief on his face made her heart pound.

“Arya?”

“I’m getting you out of here.” She dug around in her bag for a small dagger as he leaned against the bars, looking at her.

“How did you find me?” Arya spoke as she started to work the lock with her dagger.

“You didn’t reply to my ravens. I asked Sansa about it, and Ser Brienne, and they hadn’t heard from you either. I had a bad feeling, so I snuck into the castle and here we are.” The lock sprung open and the cell door swung open without warning. Gendry toppled onto her, pinning her onto the ground. Gendry’s forehead touched hers, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. They stayed like that for a moment, Arya holding him close, before she started to move underneath him and he rolled off her, laying on the ground. She moved down the hallway and dragged the unconscious guard back to where they were.

“Take his tunic and cloak. Wipe your face off on my cloak.” She tossed her Dornish cloak to him and pulled her direwolf cloak out of her bag. She pulled out the two daggers and her silver bracelet. She saw that he still had his on his wrist, and she smiled to herself. Now that Gendry was dressed as a guard, he helped her drag the unconscious guard into the cell Gendry had once occupied. Using the keys from his waist, they locked him in and made their way out of the dungeon. Nobody seemed to notice them, and they got out of the castle without any major issues.

* * *

 

The woods outside Storm’s End were dark and thick, so thick that the pair couldn’t see the stars. Arya’s horse was where she had left it when she went into the castle.

“They’re going to be looking for you right now. We can’t go into town.”

“Arya, thank you.” Gendry hadn’t spoken since the dungeon, simply following the lead that Arya had set.

“You stupid bull. I told you I was coming back. Now what did you do to get locked into a cell?” She smirked as he stumbled on a tree root, but it turned to concern as he stopped to catch his breath. “Gendry. What happened?”

The concern in her voice pulled on his heart. “Some of the lords and ladies of the Stormlands didn’t take too lightly to being ruled by a bastard.”

“But you were legitimized!”

“Still a bastard. When I said I was engaged to marry you, it was the last straw. Lord Errol and a few others cornered me when I was in the forge. They made it very clear that they didn’t want to deal with me anymore. Your northmen put up a hell of a fight. Took down a whole load of their men. I got a few too. But we were outnumbered. I hadn’t gotten the loyalty of the men at the castle yet. They just let it happen. Threw me in the dungeon while they were figuring out what to do with me.”

“I’m going to kill every one of them.” Gendry shook his head and sat on the ground. Arya knelt beside him and threw her bag on the ground. Methodically, she began to run her hands over him, checking for injuries. Definitely some broken ribs. Some cuts on his arms, and one large one on his legs that concerned her. It could easily get infected. She turned back to her bag and retrieved the spare cloak she carried with her. Using Cat’s Paw, she sliced it to strips.

“Take your tunic off. I need to treat your wounds.”

As he pulled his tunic off, he joked, “getting me out of my clothes so soon, m’lady? I don’t think that’s quite proper.” She smacked the back of his head and sucked in a breath at the bruises that coated his torso.

“This is bad Gendry.”

“It hurts like hell.” He winced as she wrapped the strips of her cloak around the broken ribs. The cuts on his arms were washed with the alcohol – rum -- in the flask, and then she turned her attention to his leg. It wasn’t infected, but it was deep and Arya was amazed that he was able to walk all the way out of the castle on it. She hadn’t noticed him limping. The rum went onto his leg, and he winced. The final strip of her cloak went around his leg, and she was finished.

“Right. You’re on the horse tonight. We need to be as far away from here as possible.” He nodded, knowing better than to argue with her, and she helped him onto the horse. With Arya leading the way, they moved through the woods. After about half an hour, she came upon a stream. They walked though it, throwing off their scent for any dogs that may come for them.

“Arya, what’s west of Westeros?”

“Nothing that I found. Sailed west for three months, nothing. Just the sea.”

“Are --” he sounded uncertain, “Are you going west again?”

“I’m staying here. Exploring’s not for me.” The relief on his face was palpable, and they traveled in comfortable silence again. Gone was talkative Arry from their days with Yoren. Arya now only talked when necessary.

“Where are we going now? Arya, I can’t go to any of the houses of the Stormlands nearby. They’re the ones that turned on me.”

“I haven’t decided. Away from here. We need to figure out what to do.”

“Aren’t your feet cold?” Arya had taken off her boots and was walking barefoot through the stream.

“I’ll be fine. Try to sleep on the horse for a little bit.” The ordeals of the night were catching up with him, and for once, Gendry took her advice.

* * *

 

He woke up when the sun was high in the sky. Arya was still walking the horse, but they were out of the stream and working their way through the woods again.

“Have we been going all night?”

“Had to get away. Looked at a map. Figured we just head to King’s Landing from here. Once we get there, Bran will help us.”

“That’s at least a four day ride on roads. We’re going through the woods right now. How much longer does that make it for us?”

“At least a week, if we can get a second horse. If not, closer to two.”

“Any sign of people tracking us?”

“I walked in that stream for hours. If they were using dogs to track us, they would have lost the scent by now.”

“How long have you been awake, Arya?”

“We’ll make camp once it gets dark out. I have some food in my bag and can catch us something.”

“You’re avoiding the question. When was the last time you slept?” She continued to look straight ahead, leading the horse. Gendry sighed and figured it had at least been a full day, possibly more. Arya seemed to be steady, and wasn’t stumbling or swerving. But her shoulders sagged, and her feet shuffled more than normal. She was tired, whether she would admit it or not.

“At least ride with me. This horse can handle the two of us.”

“Gendry, I’ve got this. Just focus on healing those cuts and bruises for now. There’s food and water in the saddlebags by you for when you need them.” He let out a short laugh and they were traveling in silence once again. That was Arya. She would work herself to death to complete the task at hand. He shouldn’t have expected anything less.

* * *

 

As night was falling, they came upon a waterfall. It was a secluded spot, and the waterfall poured into a small pool. It was far from any road or path that Arya saw. To Arya and Gendry, it was a gift from the gods.

“Let’s camp here tonight. You should clean off in there.” Arya gestured to the pool. Gendry dismounted, with some help from her. Arya was unpacking the saddlebags on the horse as he swam in the pool. Taking a gamble, he swam under the waterfall and came upon a small cave. It wasn’t large, but it was shelter from the elements and roomy enough for the two of them.

Arya saw the smirk on Gendry’s face as he climbed of the pool. She paused with what she was doing as he wrapped his wet arm around her waist. Pushing herself away, she continued to unpack the saddlebags.

“M’lady, come swim.”

“I have work to do. We need to make a camp and catch something to eat.”

“It can wait.”

“I need the light. If you want to help, start setting up a fire while I catch dinner. Later” Gendry sighed and began to collect firewood as Arya stalked off into the woods. A few minutes later, she came back with a rabbit. Gendry had a small fire going, and she stopped in front of it to warm her hands. Even though it was summer, nights were still chilly in the Stormlands. They reminder her of Winterfell in the height of summer.

* * *

 

A few hours later, the rabbit was in their stomachs, the horse was grazing in the woods behind them, and the fire had almost burnt out. Arya laid on her back, and Gendry’s head rested on her stomach. Just as she was dozing off, Gendry shot up and took his tunic off.

“Arya, it’s later.”

“Gendry, we need to take watches, clear away any signs of our fire, and make sure that nobody gets anywhere near us.”

“We’re miles away from Storm’s End. We’ll clear the firepit and just swim for a bit.”

“Fine. Just some swimming. Nothing else.”

There was a pointed glare at him with the last sentence. As she rose, Gendry kicked dirt over the fire and the bones of the rabbit. Arya gathered some leaves and covered the supplies and weapons she had pulled out of the saddlebags. Gendry had stripped completely while she hid their presence and run into the water. Arya rolled her eyes and followed suit, hanging her clothes in a tree on the edge of the pool. She sucked in her breath as she sank into the cold water.

“Gods, its fucking cold Gendry.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a northerner?” Arya glared at him before she dove under the frigid water. The pool wasn’t deep, but Arya was short and couldn’t stand. However, Gendry had his feet firmly planted on the ground. Not for long. She tugged on his ankle and pulled his leg out from under him. He fell into the water with a splash. They both came up sputtering and gasping. Arya flipped onto her back and stared up at the stars.

“I missed you while I was away.” She fingered the silver bracelet on her wrist. This was as emotional Gendry had seen her since before Bran was declared King of the Six Kingdoms.

“I’ve got something to show you.” He grabbed her wrist and began to swim toward the waterfall. “There’s a cave behind here.” They dove under, and came out on the other side.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this chapter is pretty much just smut. Skip it if you don't want to read that! You won't miss out on any major plot points.

The cave was not as dark as Arya had expected.  Light filtered through the water, and the air was cool and damp.  The pair crawled onto a small rock shelf at the back, laughing at each other.  Gendry rolled onto her side and stared at her as she laughed.  As he sat up, Arya pulled herself into his lap.

“You know, I have half a mind to show you how much I missed you.”

“Really now,” Arya smirked as his hands wrapped around her, pulling him close.  Her breast pressed against his chest, and he gave her a light kiss.

“Oh yes.  If it had gone as planned, I would have met you at the docks, slung you over my shoulder, and carried you all the way back to Storm’s End.”  As he spoke, his hand moved between her legs, caressing her thigh.

“I doubt I would have let that happen.”  His hand moved higher up and his other one drifted to her breast.  Arya threw her head back and closed her eyes.   She had missed this.  During the weeks while her ship had been prepared, they had spent much of their time together like this.

“I think I would have dragged you by your tunic back to my cabin and—” She gasped as his fingers finally reached her clit.

“You would have what?”  as his fingers circled, his other hand grasped her breast while pressing kisses to her neck and collar bones.  Arya squirmed in his lap, but Gendry refused to let her up.

“I— I would –” With ease, Gendry flipped her onto her back.  The rock was cool on her warm skin, and the sound of the waterfall drowned out any noise that she made.  His fingers continued to move between her legs as his kisses drifted lower.  There was a pressure building in her core, and she was breathing heavily.

  
“I think I know exactly what you would have done.”  His fingers moved faster, and his lips had finally made their way to her breast.  Her nails raked down his back, pushing down the strips of her cloak she had wrapped around his broken ribs what seemed like ages ago.  She was close.  A few more twists of his fingers, and she was arching her back and crying out his name.

Panting, Arya pulled Gendry up and kissed him so hard he thought that she bruised her lips.  Her hands left his back, caressing his arms and chest.  With one smooth motion, he slid inside of her.  Arya’s legs wrapped around his waist, her hands grasping his face and his scruffy beard.  She met each one of his thrusts with one of her own.  His hands gripped her breasts, so tight he half thought he was going to leave bruises.

Arya felt like she was going to dissolve underneath Gendry.  His thrusts continued, and she lifted her hips to match each of his thrusts.  The pressure was back in her core, and she felt each thrust as a stab to her center.  Her walls tightened around him as she came, her moans drowned out by the waterfall behind them.  She felt him come a moment later before he laid down next to her.  The water that had coated her skin was replaced with sweat, and both of them were breathing hard. 

“You know, I think I’ve said a lot over these past few days, but I did miss this, m’lady.”

“Now why did you have to go and ruin a perfectly good moment calling me that.” Arya smirked and slipped into the pool.  The cool water was heaven against her warm and sweat covered skin.  Arya gestured to the displaced bandages around his torso.  “Hope I didn’t make any of those worse.”

“Think you did some permanent damage to my ribs, but I’ll survive.”

“Let me take a look at that leg.  Didn’t get a chance to yet.”

“All that and you’re back down to business?”

“If you don’t remember, we have to get you to King’s Landing in one piece with all the lords of the Stormlands on our asses.”

“All the lords of the Stormlands on your ass?  And I thought it was just me there.”  He cam up behind her and pulled her into him, her back on his chest.

“Really now, I need to check your leg.  It could be infected, or who knows what.”

“Just relax for a second.  I doubt anyone will find us miles away from Storm’s End, in a cave behind a waterfall.  Just relax for now.  Please.”  Those words were like a switch in Arya.  All the events of the past hours had finally caught up with her.  She leaned into his chest and felt her eyes sinking closed.

“Gendry, I have to –”

“Arya, it’s fine.  Just sleep for a bit.”

“We’re naked, sitting behind a waterfall.”

“So we’ll go back to camp.  I’ll build up the fire again.”

“But—”

“Arya, I’ll take first watch.  You can’t go on like this all the way to King’s Landing.”  Arya shrugged in defeat.  He was right.  She let him pull her back under the waterfall and onto dry land again.  Once her tunic and breeches were on again, she laid down by the small fire Gendry had going, balling her cloak up under her head as a pillow.

“Wake me up for the next watch.  And I really should take a look at that cut.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”  Arya closed her eyes and was asleep almost immediately.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gendry and Arya stop at an inn to resupply and get some news. Arya explains what happened to her when they were separated as children.

Gendry shook Arya awake two hours before dawn.  She groaned and turned to face him.

“You let me sleep too long.”

“You looked like you needed it.”

“Let me look at that leg.”  Gendry pulled his breeches off and let her examine the wound on his thigh.  It was red, but didn’t look infected or inflamed.  “Are you good to sleep on the horse again?”

“At this point, I could sleep through anything.”

“Right.  I don’t see any point in staying here any longer.”  In a matter of minutes, all their belongings were packed and they were on the move again.

“Any idea where to head from here?”

“We need a town so we can resupply, possibly get another horse.”

“I’ve got no idea where we are.”

“We’ll just follow the stream until we find one.”

“What about your ship?  Can’t we just head back to Shipbreaker Bay and go to King’s Landing on it?”

“I sent it back to Tarth.  I didn’t want them to get hurt in all this.”

“Damn.  That would have been so much easier.”

“Nothing’s ever easy.”

“You’re right there.”

* * *

 

They came upon a small village in the late afternoon.  It only really had an inn and a sept, but they could work with that.  But instead of walking into the village, Arya pulled back and started hacking at her hair with a dagger, cutting it shorter and shorter.

“Arya!  What are you doing?”

“They’re looking for a woman and a man.  Not two brothers.  You need to shave for this to work.  Two clean shaven brothers in the place of woman and a scruffy man.  You’re Ed, and I’m Jon.” As she spoke, Arya was winding a strip of cloth around her chest, holding her breasts down and making her look like a small man.  “ We’re traveling to King’s Landing to enlist in the gold cloaks from our home in the Riverlands.  Let me do the talking.”

Once their disguises were in place, Arya walked the horse into the village.  Two days of no walking on his injured leg had healed it more than Gendry thought, and he was off the horse with minimal help from Arya.  Tossing a copper to the girl that grabbed the horse, the pair strolled into the inn and up to the bar.

“Oi, innkeep!” Gone was the refined Northern accent Arya spoke with.  Here was Jon, a sellsword from the Riverlands.  The innkeeper looked up at them in distain before walking in their direction.

“Two ales!  And do ya know if there’s a horse to buy here?”

“Sorry lad, not a horse left in the village.  Yours is the first that has been in the stable in ‘bout a year.”

“Damn.  Would have paid good money for one.”

“You two want a bite to eat?”

“’Fraid not.  Just here looking for a horse and a new set of clothes.  Ed here,” Arya gestured to Gendry, who was standing behind her, “Got into a fight with a few sellswords a few miles back and got a nasty cut on his leg.  Breeches cut to bits.”

“I’ve a son who looks to be the same size as your…”  The innkeeper trailed off, uncertain of the relation the two men before him had.

“Brother.”

“You two don’t look alike.”

“’Cause I’m a bastard.  Our lovely ma didn’t think that her husband was enough.”  The innkeeper rolled his eyes and went upstairs for the breeches.

“You’re a bastard?  Our ‘ma’ didn’t think her husband was enough?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”  Gendry rolled his eyes but fell silent as the innkeeper came back.

“Have your brother try these on.  They may be a little short on him.”

“He’ll take what he can get, after the stunt he pulled.”  Arya took the breeches and threw them at Gendry, who just barely caught them.  The innkeeper pointed to an empty room nearby, and Gendry limped over to try them on.

“Hear any news lately?”  Arya had sunk onto the barstool and was sipping her ale while the innkeeper wiped the counter.

“Nothing new.  Heard a rumor that the Lord of the Stormlands betrayed the king, but I doubt its true.”  Arya made a face.  She hadn’t realized that was the story being spread by Lord Errol and the others.

“I heard that some of the lords arrested the bastard for being a bastard.  Didn’t think that he could rule.”

Before the conversation could go any further, Gendry walked out of the spare room.

“These fit.  We’ll take them.”  Arya put some coppers on the table and the innkeeper swept them behind the counter.

“Right, we should be on our way.  Arya took the last sip of her ale and moved to the door. “Thanks”  The innkeeper waved them off, and soon the pair were back on the road again.

“Why didn’t we stay the night there?”  Gendry was clearly tired from having to sleep on the horse.

“Those disguises only work for short periods.  Any longer than that, and he would have noticed I was a woman.”

“What about your thing?  What you did when you rescued me?”

“Only I can wear the faces.  You need training.  And we’re worried about people recognizing you, not me.”

“Faces?  Is that what those are called?”

“Faces.”

“How did you learn to do that?”

“Trained.”

“Who trains people to do that?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”  Gendry stared at her when she said that.

“Are you comfortable telling me?”  Arya gave a shaky inhale and stared ahead, leading the horse on.  She was silent for so long Gendry almost brought up a different topic altogether, thinking that Arya wasn’t going to say anything.

“I learned the Game of Faces in Braavos.  That was where I learned to fight too.  The Faceless Men taught me.  Before that I travelled with the Hound.  He took me from the Brotherhood.  We went to the Twins, then the Vale.”

“When did you get the scars?”

Arya unconsciously fingered the scars covering her abdomen as she spoke. “One of the women there.  The Waif, she was called.  I was supposed to kill an actress, but I couldn’t.  Because I failed, she tried to kill me.”

“Arya, I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.  They’re just scars now.”

“The Twins.  Were you there when –”

“We were outside as it started.  Do you know why House Frey no longer rules the Twins?”

“They died, didn’t they?”

“Yes, but who killed them?”

“Dunno, people told me it was a fever.”

“No.  It was me.  I killed his sons and baked them into a pie.  When he finished eating it, I slit his throat and took his face.  Then I poisoned the rest of his sons.  I ended the Freys.”

“Good.  They killed your brother and mother at a wedding.”

“After that, we went to the Vale.  Got there the day that Lysa died.  I spoke to Sansa.  We were so close to each other then.  But after that, on to Braavos and the Faceless Men.”  Gendry reached down and grasped her hand.

“I’m glad you found your way back.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Gendry make it to King's Landing and meet some old friends. With the help of the Small Council and Bran the Broken, they plan how they are going to take back the Stormlands.

They made it to the Kingswood in ten days.  Arya found a horse in a village, and soon they were moving far faster than before.  They spent the days riding through the woods and the nights catching up with each other by firelight.  When they were half a day’s ride out from King’s Landing, Ser Brienne and Ser Davos appeared on the road.

“Ser Davos!  Ser Brienne!  What are you doing here?”  Gendry was shocked to see them, but Arya just smiled and rode to meet them.

“His Grace told us to go for a ride on the Kingsroad today.  Told us we’d be meeting old friends.  Seems he was right.  Its good to see you lad.”  Arya just smiled as Davos greeted Gendry.

“Lord Baratheon.  Princess Arya.  I’m glad you’ve made it here.”

“Nobody calls me princess, Ser Brienne.  Arya will do just fine.”

“Let’s get the two of you back to the city.  Lad, we’ve heard some terrible things from the Stormlands, but his Grace said that you were fine and heading to us.”  Arya lapsed into silence as the three of them got caught up.  This was easy for her, sinking into the background.  She was not as comfortable with conversation after her time in Braavos.  As Brienne and Gendry discussion the possible commission of new swords for the Kingsguard, Ser Davos fell back and rode next to her.

“My lady—”

“Arya.  I’m not a lady.  Or a princess.”

“You’re wrong there.  By my counts, you’re a princess in the Six Kingdoms, the North, and beyond the wall, and that makes you more of a lady in any court.  But that doesn’t matter.  Gendry is wincing whenever he has to do any work in his left stirrup.”

“Nasty cut on his left leg.  Plus some broken ribs and more cuts on his arms.  He’ll live, but the leg will take some time to heal.  Won’t be in the forge for a few weeks, no matter what he says.”

“Thank you.  His Grace said that Gendry would be fine, but the official silence and the rumors coming from the Stormlands had me worried.  He’s like a son to me.”

“And you’re a father to him.  I hope you know that.”  Arya could have sworn that she saw Davos tear up as he rode back up to Brienne and Gendry.

* * *

 

In the Red Keep, they were able to wash and eat something before they went to the Small Council meeting, where they were going to see Bran.  Arya was pleased, because she didn’t think that she could deal with the rest of the Small Council in the state she was in.  She had never liked the last living Lannister much, reminded her too much of Littlefinger and his manipulations. Lord Bronn was an ass and Maester Tarly talked too much.  Arya needed time to set herself before having to deal with the three of them.  She smirked when she saw how she and Gendry had adjoining rooms.  Bran may be the Three Eyed Raven and the King of the Six Kingdoms, but he was her brother and knew what she wanted.

She had picked at the bread and fruit left on the table before undressing and sinking into the bath that had been drawn for her, luxuriating in the feeling of the heat from the water warming her limbs and of the travel grime washing away.  A serving girl, a young thing, probably no more than twelve years old, hurried in and poured her a glass of wine before leaving just as quickly.  Arya just closed her eyes and relaxed, feeling safe for the first time in weeks.

After a few moments of silence, Arya heard the click of a door opening and her hands flew to her dagger, placed on the ground by the bathtub.  Gendry threw his hands up and laughed.

“Even in your brother’s palace, a place you have every right to be safe in, you’re drawing weapons at the first unexpected visitor.”

“Very funny.”

“Just got back from the maester’s quarters.  Sam said you did a good job with the gash on my leg and the broken ribs.”

“Good.  Maybe I can take up as a healer, M’lord.”  Arya sipped her wine as she joked with Gendry.  This felt right.  Joking around with Gendry, safe from any threats in her brother’s castle, just the two of them.  Gendry pulled off his tunic and spoke again.

“M’lady, is there room in that bath for another?”

“Might be a tight squeezing for a bull like you.”

“No stupid there?  Arya Stark, have you gone soft?”

“Hopefully not as soft as you have, you little lordling.”

“I’ll have you know it took six men to drag me into the dungeon, and that was only after I had killed double that many of their men.”  He pulled off his boots and the breeches they had bought in the inn.  Arya leaned forward and he sunk into the bath behind her.  Once he was seated, she leaned back and against his chest.

“It feels wrong being here.  Only bad things have happened for me here.”

“It’s a new city.  I grew up here, lived here most of my life, and I don’t recognize it.”

“Still.  So many ghosts.”

“They’ll be ghosts everywhere.”

Arya sighed and moved forward. “Wash my hair?”

“There’s not much of it to wash.  You remind me of someone I used to travel with.  Arry, he was.” Arya snorted and splashed him.  Arya’s anxiety about the city had vanished.

* * *

 

The small council chamber still smelled of smoke.  The chairs and table looked new, and was missing one chair at the head of the table.  Arya smiled.  Bran attended enough of his small council meetings to warrant a permanent spot for him.  She and Gendry sat at two of the chairs near the empty head.  Ser Davos and Brienne filed into the room.  Arya smiled at the pair of them, and they greeted them once again.

“The pair of you look like new people.  Lady Stark, you look a vision.”

“Davos, continue saying that and one day I’ll believe you.”  Arya fingered her short hair and smiled.  The expression fell off her face when Tyrion and Bronn walked in.

“Lady Stark, Lord Baratheon.  I was thrilled to hear of your safe passage to the city.”

“Lord Tyrion.  It’s lovely to see you again.”

“Lord Baratheon!  The man to tame the she-wolf, the Bringer of Dawn!”  Bronn clearly did not know what he was getting himself into.  Arya fingered the dagger at her waist and Gendry clutched her arm.

“Lord Bronn.  If you ever say anything like that again, I’m certain that Lady Arya here would slit your throat in an instant.”  Any further conversation halted as Podrick Payne wheeled Bran into the small council chambers, followed closely by Samwell Tarly.

“Arya.  Welcome to King’s Landing.  I trust that you made it here safely.”

“Bran!”  Arya nearly knocked Podrick over as she ran to hug her brother.  “This city looks so much better than when I last saw it.”

Bran chose to remain silent on the subject, leaving Sam to fill in the gaps. “We’ve been rebuilding the city bit by bit.  Starting with the merchants and the stores, working outwards.”

“Good choice.  Get the people back to normal life as fast as possible.  Then focus on the residencies of the lords and ladies, and so forth.”

Bronn looked like he was going to speak up, but Bran cleared his voice and the room fell quiet.

“Lord Gendry and Lady Arya,” Arya glared at him for calling her a lady but he continued, “Have traveled from the Stormlands, where Gendry had been imprisoned by Lord Errol and a few other Lords of the Stormlands, who did not take well to the idea of being ruled by a bastard.  My sister rescued him, and the two of them made their way to King’s Landing for help defeating the usurpers.”

The people who didn’t know, Tyrion, Bronn, Podrick, and Sam, sat completely still with shocked expressions.  Podrick’s mouth actually hung open.  Arya took advantage of the silence to start planning.

“We’ll need a force of about 75 men.  I’ll sneak into the castle and let them through the beach gate during the night.  From there, we’ll split into groups and take back individual parts of the castle, meeting in the Great Hall.  Once we get there, we’ll move to the grounds.  Hopefully by that point we’ll have taken Lord Errol, and he’ll tell his men to lay down their arms.  If not, we’ll take the grounds.”  She started to continue her plan, but Bronn interrupted her before she could get to the men that she needed.

“And how will you be paying for that?”  Arya almost reached across the table and slit his throat there.  Ser Davos spoke before she could.

“How much could 75 men and horses cost?  Less than what the Stormlands sends to the crown every month?  The lad’ll pay the crown back once he’s back in Storm’s End.”

Arya sighed as Tyrion opened his mouth.  The man could talk for ages and not get a point across.

“Why not face Lord Errol with the full force of the king?  Show up at the gates of Storm’s End with ten thousand men and lay siege to the castle.  Lord Errol will have to give in eventually.”  Arya was thankful that Gendry spoke up before she did.  She was quickly losing patience with this conversation.

“Gathering ten thousand men would take too long.  We can easily take 75 men from around the city and nothing will change.  And besides.  There are innocents in that castle.  Men and women who didn’t have a say in what happened.  Children.  They would be the first to go in a siege.  The first to go without food, the first to get sick and starve.  I’ve been there before.  I’ve seen children starving in the streets of this very city only one year ago.  Even though I did not want the lordship, I take my duties seriously.  I will protect my people.” 

Once again, the room was stunned into silence.  Most of the people there had never seen Gendry in his full force.  They could all hear the controlled rage in Gendry’s voice, but only Arya could feel the complete and utter desperation behind it.  She held his hand tighter under the table and waited for someone else to speak.

It was Bran who broke the silence.

“You can have 75 of my most trusted men.  Talk to Ser Brienne about it.  I believe that concludes my role in this meeting.  Ser Podrick, if you will.”

“Thank you, your grace.”

“Gendry, call me Bran.  We’re practically family.”  Bran winked as Podrick wheeled him out of the room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion has plans for Arya. She thinks otherwise. Bronn is an ass. What's new

The meeting ended quickly after Bran had left.  The news from the Stormlands and the newly formed plans put a halt on any other issues that needed to be dealt with.  Ser Davos gave them a wave before starting in a heated discussion with Sam, and Ser Brienne nodded in their direction.  But before Gendry and Arya could sneak off, Tyrion and Bronn cornered them in the hallway.

“Lord Gendry, Lady Arya.  I believe his Grace’s last comments merit some explaining from the two of you.”

“Lord Tyrion.”  The ice in Arya’s voice could have been heard by a deaf man.  “What could possibly need explaining?”

“I knew that the pair of you were close, but perhaps I did not realize the extent of your relationship.”  Gendry unconsciously fingered the silver bracelet on his wrist and Arya saw how Bronn caught the movement.  His eyes moved to identical band on her wrist.

“The lad didn’t just bed the she wolf!  The two of them mean to get married!  How’d you manage that?”

“Call Lady Arya that again and you won’t just have to worry about her.”

“Defending your betrothed’s honor?”  Tyrion looked as though he just got the joke about ten minutes too late.  As the realization dawned over his face, Arya grabbed Gendry’s hand and tried to pull them out of the conversation, back to their rooms.

“Lady Arya, may I have a word in private?”  Tyrion was turning redder by the second.  Clearly he had a plan for her, one that did not include a betrothal to Gendry.

“Whatever you have to say to me, you can say to Gendry.  But do you really want Lord Bronn here for this?”

“Right.  I can see when I’m not wanted.  Lannister, I’ll be expecting you later.”  Bronn sauntered off, and it took all the Arya could to not bury a dagger into his back.  Tyrion looked pointedly at Gendry, who coughed to hide his discomfort.  That brought on a wince, and Arya realized just how exhausted he looked.

“Gendry, go see Sam.  You clearly need those ribs looked at.”

“But--”

“I’ll talk to you after this.”  A squeeze to the hand and a wink let him know that she would relate every word of this conversation to him back in their rooms.  He walked off, leaving just Arya and Tyrion.  She turned back to glare at him as he reopened the door to the small council chambers.

“Clearly this took me by surprise.  I was in the midst of a marriage negotiation with Dorne—”

“Allow me to stop you there.  I will be marrying Gendry or no one at all.”

“We have the Stormlands.  Gendry’s loyalty will be firmly with us after the defeat of Lord Errol.”  Tyrion at and gestured to the chair across from him, but Arya remained standing.  He sighed and folded his hands in his lap.  "Dorne, on the other hand, has shaky loyalty at best.  A marriage of a prince of Dorne to the Bringer of Dawn, the slayer of the Night King, the woman who ended the Long Night?  That will grant us more loyalty from Dorne."

“Lord Hand, have you spoken to my sister, Queen of the North, about this betrothal to a prince of Dorne?  What about my brother Jon, King Beyond the Wall?  Or even my brother Bran, for that matter?  Have you spoken to them about his matter?”

“Why, yes—”

“Lie.”

“I believe that Queen Sansa would be on the same page—”

“Incorrect.”

“Jon is not even your brother—”

“Wrong.  We may not be siblings by blood, but Jon will always be my brother.  He gave me Needle, the sword I killed my first man with.”

“Lady Arya, I—”

“Tell me, what were you getting in exchange for the betrothal of the Bringer of Dawn?  Trading rights?  Gold?  What was it?”

“An alliance, an assurance of peace in this new era—”

“Lie."

"As a princess of the Six Kingdoms, you have a duty--" 

"Lord Tyrion, have you ever played the game of faces?  I have.  I know when you’re lying.  You don't wish to tell me why you want me to marry a Dornish prince, I don’t wish to continue this conversation.  So I’ll end it here.  The negotiations with Dorne are done.  Otherwise you’ll be putting me into a very difficult position.”  Before Tyrion could say anything else, Arya stalked out of the room and down the hall.

* * *

Gendry was fast asleep in her bed when she returned.  The bruising on his torso from the broken ribs and the small cuts on his arms and back were almost healed.  Arya pulled off everything but her tunic and crawled into the bed next to him.  Arya heard a muffled groan as she laid down next to him, and she turned to face her.

“What did the imp want?”

“A marriage contract between me and a prince of Dorne.  Can you believe him?”

“So its not happening?”  The worry in Gendry’s voice made Arya cringe.  How could he doubt her?  But she knew that his worry came from a not wholely unreasonable place.  She had turned him down once before, when she wasn’t fully herself.

“I’m marrying you, you stupid bull,” Arya saw the tension fall out of Gendry’s body as he sagged into the pillow.  “I almost cut his head clean off when he tried to talk me out of it.”

“Why did he try that in the first place?”

“I don’t know.  But clearly he hasn’t spoken to Sansa, Jon, or even Bran about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“A sister of the Queen in the North, or the King Beyond the wall, married to some Dornish prince?  There’s no benefit there.  Dorne is too far, the North is too powerful to need that alliance.  And though Bran probably knew about what Tyrion was planning, he would never force me into a marriage for the sake of some alliance.  Neither would Sansa or Jon.  They know me better than that.”

“So what now?”

“Well, ride to the Stormlands, sneak into the castle, take back your lordship, slit Lord Errol’s throat, get married.  But for now, I think we take our supper in this room and sleep for a full day.”  Gendry smiled at her statement before kissing her, with the heat of a forge fire.  The food that Bran had sent for them laid untouched until late in the evening.


End file.
